Dalton took his time, keeping his movements slow and easy, letting the animal grow accustomed to his scent and voice and touch. Then he gathered the reins and eased into the saddle. He patted Rosco’s neck and talked to him in a low, calm voice, then sat back and sent him into a walk.
Halfway around, he asked the colt to trot, then after a lap, moved him into a lope. When it was time, he rolled him to the right toward the fence and on around in a half-turn spin, then loped him off, all in one continuous, unbroken movement. They made a lap, then repeated the turn to the left. Dalton asked him to do that two more times in each direction, then backed him until he dropped his butt, spun him into a tight right turn, then loped him off, stopped, and backed him onto his haunches again, spun him into a left turn, and rolled him out into a lope. Stop, back up, tuck, spin, and roll out. The horse got it all, smooth as silk, sensitive to the slightest signal. He’d been trained well.
At Mrs. Whitcomb’s nod, Alejandro opened another gate and a cow trotted into the pen. Immediately, the colt tensed, eyes and ears focused on the cow. Dalton could sense the same excitement he felt in his own body running through the young horse. He was definitely ready.
He walked the colt toward the cow, gave him the go-ahead, then sat back and enjoyed the ride as Rosco followed the cow around the pen. He did everything he’d been trained to do, mirroring perfectly the cow’s movements with little or no input from Dalton, staying on point and calm and totally focused on the task. This horse had the makings of a true champion, Dalton decided, and he was determined to be a part of that journey.
“So, what do you think?” Mrs. Whitcomb asked a few minutes later when Dalton handed off the colt to Alejandro.
“I think you should hire me, ma’am. And right away, if you want him ready for the Fort Worth Futurity next fall.”
Mrs. Whitcomb laughed and held out her hand. “Done.”
* * *
* * *
Raney was coming out of the barn after tending her horse, when she saw an unfamiliar dark blue pickup driving out the front gate. Curious, she walked over to where her mother was watching Alejandro and a helper drive the young colts in the paddock pasture back into their stalls.
Alejandro was a longtime and highly valued employee at Four Star. He was a hard worker, unquestionably trustworthy, and had the uncanny ability to notice things in horses that went below the surface. Like a slight shoulder weakness, or a mare being ready to foal, or a young colt favoring one leg.
He was short and stocky and very strong, with black hair and eyes, a broad smile, and a tattoo on his chest that said Amada, which meant “beloved” in Spanish. Raney suspected he’d told both of his ex-wives that he had gotten the tattoo to honor them. Quite the charmer. He had fathered a son by each of his wives and had named both boys Alejandro—numero Uno and numero Dos. He adored both boys and extended that same fatherly protectiveness toward Raney and her sisters. He was part of the family now and she couldn’t have run the ranch without him.
“Who was that?” Raney asked, nodding toward the blue pickup as she joined her mother.
“Dalton Cardwell.”
Raney looked at her in surprise. “Are you sure? The Dalton Cardwell I remember was a lot skinnier. They called him Beanpole.”
Mama chuckled. “He’s certainly no beanpole now. You might consider—”
“Don’t start.” The last thing Raney needed was her mother pimping her out. The man was a criminal, for heaven’s sake.
Laughing, her mother turned and walked toward the house.
Raney fell in beside her. “You know he’s the guy who killed Jim Bob.”
“He told me all about it.” Mama made a dismissive gesture. “It was an accident. And probably as much Jim Bob’s fault as his. I heard the Adkins boy had been drinking and might have been speeding.”
“Says who?”
“Marlene.”
“The hairdresser? That’s your source?”
“She’s great with hair. You said so yourself.”
“Good Lord.”
Raney remembered how shocked she had been when she’d read about the wreck. Even though they went to different high schools, she’d heard Dalton Cardwell was a quiet guy, smarter than most, never causing trouble or drawing attention to himself, except on the football field. She had never talked to him, but she remembered a lot of girls thought he was cute. Which he’d been, in a skinny, awkward sort of way.
He was also a natural athlete and made a name for himself as a wide receiver, despite being such a “tall drink of water,” as Daddy had called him after watching him play. Dalton might have earned a college football scholarship if he hadn’t enlisted in the army. It was two years after 9/11 when he graduated, and like so many boys his age, he’d been gung ho to get the guys who had brought down the towers. She heard that after the army, he’d ridden in some of the nearby cutting shows before using his VA benefits to go to Texas Tech. Then just before his third year, he’d had the wreck that had killed Jim Bob and a month later had been sent to Huntsville state prison.
A sorry waste of two lives. She never would have thought quiet Dalton Cardwell would be so careless as to cause another person’s death. But then, he had been in the army and had probably seen a lot of death in Iraq. Things like that could change a person. She’d seen it happen.
“What did he want?” Raney asked, following her mother up the veranda steps.
“A job.”
“Doing what?”
“Trainer. Maria, is there any tea left?” Mama called as they sank down into two overstuffed chairs in front of the fireplace. Propping her booted feet next to Raney’s on the ottoman, her mother lifted her shoulder-length hair off the back of her neck. “Lordy, if it’s this hot already, summer will be scorching. I’ll be glad to escape the heat.”
Mama had already planned her escape. A June cruise up to Alaska, a tour of Denali, whale watching in Glacier Bay, watching grizzlies fishing for salmon at Brooks Falls, then down to Puget Sound for an extended visit with friends, followed by a horse-pack trip up and around Mount Rainier. Come September, after Joss’s baby came, she’d be off to Hawaii, then Tahiti, then God knows where. It was a little shocking how eager Mama was to get away from her family. But considering that Joss would be moving back next month, Raney didn’t blame her.
Maria brought tea and sliced avocados and the little cucumber sandwiches Mama loved. They ate in companionable silence. Once she’d cleared her plate and returned it to the tray, Mama sat back with a contented sigh. “I’ll miss those sandwiches.”
“They have cucumbers in Alaska.”
“But nobody can make them into sandwiches the way Maria can. Thank you, Maria,” she added when their cook came to clear the plates away. “Delicious, as always.”